Hoddog
by oRpheusB20
Summary: Literally just a better thought-out version of Hanburger. Another world, where death holds no consequence, has been turned into a game. Not that everyone is happy with this arrangement. With natives bitter about the intrusion and some people just not wanting to be there, things aren't likely to remain simple for very long.
1. Q&A and other things

**This is in essence a live document, that is to say that it will (should) be updated when need be to explain things, for everyone to keep track of the characters, etc. Basically a Q &A + some answers to questions you honestly never had and never probably would have.**

 **You don't need to read this, but it should help refresh your memory after several months of me not updating or whatever.**

 **Also, it has random supplementary material that may or may not ever actually be relevant to the story but might help you get into the world I'm trying to make here.**

 **NOTE: THIS ISN'T HANBURGER. That is a different continuity with a different set of rules and functionally different characters. 'Can't speak in front of the class' Plague in Hanburger is not the same guy as 'believes he is destined to be alone and has a tendency to gnaw on himself' Fechin in this story despite them going by the same name at times.**

 **Edited: 1 time**

* * *

 **Don't ask about time period. Please.**

I don't know what time period it is, but I do know that they have large cities and apartment and cars. Because people are bound to have a massive shock when going into Lazarus anyway because it's basically just medieval fantasy, what era phones they have or whatever is basically irrelevant unless it's current day where most of the problems would likely arise from everyone texting and then someone not in the loop seeing this way too elaborate 'roleplay' planning with no actual roleplaying being done.

Basically, this is before phones had access to just about every feature under the sun, and if they are mobile at all, they're still giant blocks that only adults primarily have access to. (Does anyone actually remember when kids weren't expected to have phones and tablets at 9? Just me?)

* * *

 **Characters _(listed in order of appearance (most of the time)) +_ any interesting notes about them**

 _ **(Note that characters such as Rapier will likely never have their normal identify announced within the story, therefore they may very well disappear as more important characters come and fill up the space)**_

 _ **(Left = given name, right = code name)**_

 _ **(Nothing =** **anything** **means that character has no 'counterpart', let's just call it; they are a Lazarian and cannot appear in the normal world. Lazarians generally have names based on things that exist in nature-Tree, Moon, Fire, Gold. Humans have names that make less sense/animals/manmade objects-Letha, Dog, Shovel (respectively))**_

Chevel _(Which has a meaning that was totally accidental, I swear)_ = Shovel

? = Rapier _(Shield actually took Rapier's appearance back when I was still deciding names. I decided to add Rapier in so Shovel wouldn't go from interacting with Shield to interacting with Shield using a different name. It confused Sim (Twiddlesticks, whatever), also. Ultimately, I needed someone else to fill the role and who else but the blacksmith from Hanburger that caused many a death of Shovel's?)_

Shiela = ? _(Yes yes, you probably all know who it is, just roll with it for now)_

Ace = Propeller

TBD/Character has not appeared in-story yet so it isn't relevant right now = Treasure

Donovan = Specter = ScaryNinjaBananaSexyDorkyLivingWimpyChibiSourCutieKissyKittyGirlyChocoBatPancakeMaple  
 _(Yes, this is confusing let me explain: Donovan is the original, okay? He's the one to go around doing the interacting with Ace, but when he enters Lazarus, he basically becomes a twisted version of Dissociative Identify disorder. Scary is basically the dominate personality you see with Donovan, cool and confident, etc. Pancake, Maple, Sour all have a love for food, Girly is basically an extreme manifestation of his feminine side, you get the idea. All of them can fight well enough on their own but Specter… Specter is basically short term GOD mode that can only be used if they are all together and alive, as they must fuse back into Dovovan for it to work, putting together all their strength and magic in the process. Generally is a last resort. If you can outlast him, you're basically free to do whatever you want because he has no strength left to fight regardless of how much he effort he exerted while together._  
 _No one's entirely sure why he splits though, don't ask him about that)_

Nothing = Gold

? = Kiaken _(I keep spelling this name wrong. Also, typing it into google generally ends with it correcting to Kiaoken. No. It's a dagger. Although it is from Japan.)_

TBD/Character has not appeared in-story yet so it isn't relevant right now = Mole

Nothing = Spy _(I will admit this character only exists because of a lapse in judgement on my part. I had a working version of the story where Shovel was Shovel in school, but in Lazarus he was Spade. Shield was Aegis, Propeller was Fan (I think), Treasure was Gem, I believe I left Scary and his others alone because Specter as he is now didn't exist and I didn't see a conflict with the name, and Mole... was Spy. Get it, because of the English language and Mole meaning an animal or a deep cover agent? I thought it was pretty good at the time. Later I was revising the story with the current naming conventions and I had no fucking clue who this guy was. So, for the hell of it, I made them into who they are now, only realizing later what I'd done. I love stupid accidents sometimes.)_

TBD/Character has not appeared in-story yet so it isn't relevant right now = King

Mona = Letha _(in Greek, Letha means forgetful. That is not the meaning that I was going for. Looking back now, Zila definitely sounds cooler, but if things go the way that I very vaguely want them to...)_

Fechin = Plague _(because it was requested, Fechin means Little Raven in Irish. Yeah, it's not too deep. For those who are curious, originally, I wanted a name meaning something ironic in the beginning that would slowly come to fit later on, something along the lines of Potential, because that's the character to me. A lot of potential, but no one notices (like how no one would look up the name and figure out what it meant). Alas, no such name has apparently ever existed, so I had to give that up. I played with names meaning death, but none sounded natural. Das (Servant or Slave) sounded promising considering what I plan to do with him, but it looked like it was more a prefix that a name, and nothing I added sounded right. I also briefly returned to names that held ironic meanings, as I found somewhere that Dillion meant Ray of Hope, which didn't sound terrible, but the sound of it didn't fit. I ended up with Blaise (Lisp or Stutter), Cameron (Crooked Nose), Fechin, and Corbin (Little Raven/Crow) after narrowing at bit. I really liked the sound of Fechin, even though it didn't have the meaning that I quite wanted; the more I used it, the more it really just naturally slotted itself in my mind as his name.)_

Reize = TBD/Character has not appeared in-story yet so it isn't relevant right now

Nothing = Moon

Nothing = Tree

? = Dog _(Fun fact: Dog in Hanburger ended up as one of Mona's sorta not really friends in Lazarus after Treasure took her for his group (back when the process was nonsensical as fuck). He was the other new recruit. A big role was never planned for him; he was more there to help her adjust and so people wouldn't ask where the other guy was. It seemed appropriate to keep him as part of Treasure's gang.)_

* * *

 **Groups**

Crimson Cloaks (Named before SoT I swear): Headed by Scary; where most of the characters seem to be honestly. Highly regarded because of the existence of the Spooks, who are basically an army by themselves.

Digging Divers (Named mostly because alteration is hard and it sounded good): Headed by Treasure; has less members than the CC or the GG but makes up for it through sheer brute force and also stealing people away like a bunch of assholes.

Green Gallivanters (Also named the Flirty Flyboys): Headed by Propeller; is not weak by any means, but is typically forgotten about in lieu of the former two groups, who have their own selling points that are technically far better.

Royal Rulers: Headed by King; has no one else backing him. Everyone basically just leaves him be because he's not a threat despite him putting together an actually pretty impressive fortress.

* * *

 **Lazarus rules/how this shit all works**

 **#1:** When outside of Lazarus, you are on a timer. Take Chevel in the first chapter. He pops in at the beginning with 20 minutes left. By staying in Lazarus (work is not required but you will get rewarded for it and it gives you something to do) that timer will reverse. As to be explained in the second chapter, if you are under two days, then for every one minute spent inside of Lazarus, you gain back two. Just to make sure that you can sleep through at least most of the night.

It is mostly encouraged to keep a stockpile of time, as Spy will only pause your time if, say, you're in a coma or under near 24 hour watch.

Running out of time can be fatal, although not immediately. Instead, the timer goes into negatives and you become more and more ill. How long you can last like this depends on how healthy you are otherwise (you're less likely to survive for 3+ weeks if you're morbidly obese and have recently been struck by lightning than if you're a perfectly average otherwise healthy young lad) (whether this actually helps people lose weight is entirely up to you, I'm not going to go around calling anyone morbidly obese. Or obese in general. Not really my style.)

 **#2:** Lazarians do not have a say in the otherworlders appearing. There is not currently a reason within the story itself for why humans gained access at all to Lazarus, and frankly I'm not sure I will ever add one. A lot of them feel like their world has become a plaything, but because of their natural competitiveness towards each other that allowed for the groups to be formed at all, they have a hard time banding with enemy Lazarians in order to try and force the otherworlders into seeking a way to leave forever.

Spy seeming to like the otherworlder's antics help nothing.

That is not to say this will stay the same forever.

 **#3:** Everyone wears either a helmet or a mask, generally depending on their status as intro or extrovert. This is not a set rule by any real means, more an observation.

Eyes will change color to reflect mood of the wearer; black = neutral (or unconscious), orange = scared, purple = confused, red = angry, blue = happy I'm probably forgetting some key moods sorry

 **#4:** Spy is basically the closest thing to a god that Lazarus has. They can be in multiple places at once and watches the humans jump back and forth. Is the only one to know that Mona is Letha and Chevel is Shovel, etc. etc.

 **#5:** Peace meetings can and will be held, usually in times of war but also in times of peace to discuss something important to them. Ex: Gold wanting to form him own group.

 **#6:** Slave labor is a thing, and is employed often by the Digging Divers to make up for the lack of members.

 **#7:** Leaders of a group are allowed to change the color of a person's crystal. Slightly dubious for the other Spooks because they don't go around stealing people, because they are part of a whole, but technically they are separate people. What color their crystal is dictates what group they are a part of and therefore what base they will appear in when they return to Lazarus/respawn (for the Lazarians)-red = CC, blue = DD, green = GG, yellow = RR

* * *

 **Jason: I do see a difference in upset and frustrated, that's why there are two separate words. Upset means I want to clam up and will only communicate to you in short bursts if I do more than hum or grunt. It's what happens when you remind me that I fuck a lot of shit up. Upset, for me, is more sad angry than annoyed angry. Frustrated means I'm getting really snappy, and I kinda want to bang my head against the wall because you can't understand that I don't fucking hate you or whatever it is that you seem to believe, but I'm not going to really blow up on you unless you're** _ **really**_ **grating my nerves.**

 **Look, man, I get indecisiveness, I really do, my dad always gets real pissy if I ever tell him I don't know what I want for dinner or for my birthday or something. Only once has 'I don't know' been a happy thing for me. But in the case of what is effectively a yes or a no, please at least give it a vague attempt. I know you have an opinion, you have expressed it before.**

 **Well, if you're secure in the idea that you're fine…**

 **What I mean is that you have each section split by the use of the enter/return key. But in that instance, you decided to put that which I have said frustrates me (still no names) next to can we be friends again without putting it on a new line, like you somehow think that poking an irritated cat with a stick will make it love you. The logic does not exist in that context, right?**

 **R2: 1. Answered  
2\. Answered. Hopefully.  
3\. Not entirely sure what you wanted to know, but I have provided the explanation that Fechin is Plague so… there you go.  
4\. The whole of his life makes sense to me in that it's basically another way of saying forever and ever.  
5\. Not sure why you gave your own description of him for seemingly no reason… Also, I'm not entirely sure I understand what you mean by that, but the explanation for what I think you asked is in the character sheet.  
6\. Never thought about it.  
7\. That period was intentional. Adding Specter was sort of an afterthought, but not really enough to warrant an ellipse.  
8\. No comment.  
9\. Technically there as a Girly in Hanburger as well, she would have been introduced as of C8, which I might as well add would have been a school dance episode. I do plan to revive this idea later on.  
10\. Technically 'you don't have say' isn't **_**wrong**_ **and when you're frustrated words come out wrong, you know? Also, it's something Lkc and I joked about back when we messaged solely over FF. I don't want to know what Girlycard is.**

 **R3: There is a 'god' sort of figure but they don't really stop everyone from running around doing whatever and they don't force some sort of religion. Closest thing to a central authority is that or when the leaders all get together for a peace meeting. As for prior to the humans arriving, then no one really had any reason to rally under one banner.**

 **Hopefully that answers everything.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Sorry 'bout the name. Had to.**

 **Bet no one asked for this shit, huh? Anyway, I actually spent some time talking to someone who actually knows their shit. And while all of the kinks aren't gone, necessarily, hopefully some of them are missing.**

 **I actually had quite the interesting back and forth trying to figure out if I wanted to give the characters actual names, because it would make Mona look less like the odd one out _because she's the only major character with an actual fucking name_. If anyone wants, I will make a little notesheet 'chapter' that tells you who is who as they are introduced. Because there will be a lot of names thrown around.**

 **Feel free to come on and bicker about the logistics of things, that's why this remake exists, because someone had the balls to say that nothing made any fucking sense. Thanks,** Cadaver1041, **even if you never see this.**

 **Also. 12000 words. Mistakes are expected. Pointing them out is appreciated.**

* * *

Life as a teenager was tough. That wasn't to say it wasn't rewarding at times, but some things just were not good for a growing mind.

Case in point: homework.

Chevel honestly could not understand anyone who went into higher level classes when here in his second year, he was already just about to kill someone if it relieved the monotony and stress of trying to figure out how chemistry worked.

He sighed as he glanced at the clock. He had to get his hours in. Now.

He stood up and pressed his fist against his chest, concentrating for a moment before he disappeared in a flash of light.

When he opened his eyes, feeling slightly disoriented like he always did, he wasted no time in grabbing his crimson red crystal from his armor's chestplate, looking at the blue numbers on it, indicating the time he had remaining. He had yet to experience what would occur if the numbers ticked down to zero, and if he was being honest, he was not nearly curious enough to find out. Whatever it was, it had been described as unpleasant by people who had dealt with it, and he had no desire to see it happen to him.

"20 minutes?" He spoke softly, so as to not disturb the bustling crowd around him. He swore he had more time, but apparently that was just him tricking himself.

"Heyo! Shovel, how you doin'?"

Chevel, or, as he was known in this reality he was now within, Shovel, turned to looked at the speaker. It was his friend, here known as Rapier, although he did not know her real name. He could hate her in his normal life, but here, she was an invaluable asset to never be lost. The concept always provided an interesting conundrum, but that was why no one showed their face here.

It was touted as 'part of the fun,' but he couldn't care less if it meant that he didn't lose any of his friends.

He smiled, the helmet now covering his face molding slightly to express this to her. "I can't go home for a couple hours at least. I only have 20 minutes on my timer."

Rapier frowned at this. "Do you really have that much homework, or do you just not get it?"

"It's a combination."

Rapier nodded carefully, thinking this over. "Well, I have some really mundane work I need to do. Since you can't afford to die right now, I figure you might want to take it instead?"

He could just hear the hopefulness in her voice. "Trade one bad thing for another," Shovel commented with an annoyed grumble. "Sure. What is it?"

Rapier smiled, and he wondered if it were really a smirk that called him a sucker. The helmet she wore only told him basic things, which was nice, but he wished that it would inform him of more complex expressions. Some people had masks, which tended to mold more and display a variety of emotions, but when dealing with a helmet, the best you could do is watch and try to match the way that it moved with the rest of the person's body language and voice tone. The way that the color indicating one's eyes changed helped, of course, but it only displayed a base emotion, and he didn't need the blue to tell him that she was happy.

On the bright side, this made most everyone that ever had to deal with such an issue a master at reading people based on anything but their faces.

Rapier led him down a hallway, opening a door to reveal an almost literal mountain of paper.

Shovel groaned. "Well, I suppose I need the hours. Alright, what am I doing and about how long will it take?"

"I'd estimate… five hours if you go slowly and do it right. Now then, what you want to do here is…"

* * *

Propeller folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "You're not getting them back, Treasure. I know that your force has been dwindling as of late, but they came to us of their own free will; they will not cooperate should you remove them by force. You might as well just leave."

Treasure snarled at this smug behavior. "We will see about that, Flyboy. My numbers may have fallen, but our heart is still there and burning with the desire to take back those that dared to leave."

"Stop it," Scary snarled. "Or I will stop you myself. Although need I remind you that when we gather like this we are supposed to under a truce, and therefore should not be fighting in the first place? We are here for another reason. Gold?"

Gold cleared his throat. "We, the alchemists, have been separate for much too long now. We have every capacity to be our own group. If Crazy McGee over there can be formally recognized as his own group despite no one wanting to back him, then why are we not allowed our independence despite the fact that we are allowed to sit in at meetings?"

"We allow you to sit in for the same reason Kiaken, Mole and Spy are allowed. You are valuable. However, we have told you and our blacksmiths that you are to remain sub-groups. It is so that we can have your services without bias and therefore, unfair play," Propeller informed him. "In addition to that, the land that you wish to take over for your base is valuable semi-neutral ground that we cannot afford to be solely in the hands of one group, no matter how reliant you are on those resources."

"Do you really believe that I would buy such nonsense?!" Gold roared angrily at the group, slamming his hands on the table. "Your nonsense is shit, and, furthermore, your shit is nonsense! You can still teach people to use alchemy, however, none of you understand the nuances of mid-range attacks nor the science that I practice. And personally, I do not see why you allow the Diver's second in command to sit in when no one else has a second in command!"

"You cannot form a group based solely on a desire for a particular fighting style," Treasure argued, ignoring the attack on his group member.

"Bullshit! Fucking _King_ is his own group! He had no reason for wanting it either, so I have a leg up on him!"

"We prefer to think of him as being grandfathered in from the beginning…" Scary muttered. "No one particularly wants him around, after all. However, your sub-group is invaluable to all of us. If the people who want to form this, uh, 'Advancing Alchemists' group so desire, nothing is stopping them from using mid-ranged attacks or continuing research."

"Would you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" King asked, only to be ignored.

"I am the only one who knows how to use bombs in a truly effective manner; the technique cannot spread without someone to teach those who want to know! And besides that, we are separate and therefore we cannot advance our practice with any degree of proficiency!" Gold took a deep breath to calm him. "This is because I'm a Lazarian, isn't it? Just a walking suit of metal and fabric? That's it… isn't it?" Subconsciously, the strange creature stood and started to pace. "I've heard about your brutality, otherworlders. You will attack and put down anything that isn't _you_. White skinned flesh and blood. You aren't exactly the brightest stars to follow when you're attacking me over what I am at such an early age, now are you?" He laughed bitterly. "Grandfathered in, my ass."

Gold turned and strolled out of the meeting room, his cape bellowing dramatically behind him.

Kaiken, who had remained silent this whole time, stood and dashed after his fellow sub-group leader, his welding mask twisting in distress.

Everyone remaining in the room was quiet for a moment before Mole dared to speak up. "Did someone give him a human book on racism?"

"Now that I'm thinking about, we're all white, aren't we?" Propeller asked.

Spy leaned back in their chair, watching curiously as the five humans stared at each other, each not entirely sure what to think about this situation.

* * *

(The next day)

"Yo, Chevel!"

The boy in question paused with his leg mid motion, purposefully leaving it hanging in the air to amuse his friend before he looked back at her with a tired grin. "What's up?"

Shiela hurried to get to his side so that he could continue getting to his next class. "I heard you muttering to yourself back in the commons. You're running out of time?"

Chevel mentally punched himself for talking to himself in his only half-awake state. He needed to kick that habit to the curb. "Yeah. I am. But Scary's got his… others looking into finding ways to, like, give hours to someone else, since, you know, two hundred plus hours in a week and all. Or… so I've heard, anyway. Word gets corrupted, you know. Once, or if, that's finished, I'll be golden! Uh, hopefully, anyway. Depends on if anyone will give me anything, haha. And I've been going in every couple of hours when I need a break from anything so I can sleep through the night, so I'm keeping it pushed back as much as possible until this overflow of work eases up. Of course, that didn't stop yesterday being a nightmare, but what are you going to do?"

"Didn't you get a stop time thing though? I heard you muttering about that once as well."

Had Chevel not started to laugh at the reminder of the object currently sitting uselessly on his desk, he would have been curious as to how often Shiela listened into his talks to himself. "Have I ever told you that I hate that you're not told what you're getting when you buy shit in _there_?It's only for 30 seconds, believe it or not. I'm saving it for the day the house is broken into."

"Since when was that inevitable…?"

"Law of probability says that it's gotta to happen eventually." At Shiela's grim frown, he swiftly moved on. "Have you heard of the two people that moved here?"

"You ask that like it's not nearly every day we get more people popping in. Remember, center of the city and all. But, to answer, no. Who?"

"Ah, a girl and a boy, up on the second floor. Not really sure who they are, exactly, but I hear they're real tight and they are onto the recruiters, and that's making them really difficult to pin down for any length of time, apparently."

Something about this perked Shiela's interest, and she cocked her head to the side. "Difficult to pin?"

"Yeah. They keep disappearing before anyone can talk to them. People over in my group are starting to joke that they're going into the bathrooms and holing themselves in there. No one can find them during lunches or after school; it's insane."

"Have they tried, I don't know, following them?"

Chevel barked out a laugh at this. "Of course! Someone even put a tracker on the girl's backpack! No one's sure what happened to it; it just suddenly stopped transmitting out in the middle of the football field halfway through third period and no one's heard from it since! They can't even find the thing now. The best part? They keep trying that angle like it's suddenly going to work! Have you ever heard the definition of insanity?"

Shiela snorted. "Oh come on, that's ridiculous; you have to be pulling my leg."

"I swear! Leader was talking about it with the people who put the trackers on! I was waiting for my weapon to be fixed and I heard it! It was great!"

The first bell rang, and Chevel jumped in surprise before taking off at the fastest speed that was safe to wade through the mass of students, yelling out of quick goodbye as he nearly sprinted to reach his next class.

Shiela laughed at this and turned to get to her next class, all the while thinking, 'Scary and his others, huh? I figured he'd be more elitist than that. I'll have to see if I can't seek him out later.'

* * *

'Why are these idiots trying to put _another_ tracker on my backpack?' Mona questioned, watching out of the corner of her eye as someone tried to discretely place the object down where it wouldn't be noticed.

It was always noticed.

It had only been two weeks, and everyone was trying to figure out their every move. Unfortunately for them, she had been on high alert from minute one and had yet to fall into a mindless routine that would lessen the chances of her noticing. As uncomfortable as she was with not allowing her actions to become nothing short of automatic, she knew that it was necessary to avoid a far worse disruption.

Meanwhile, people on the other side of the room were gossiping just loud enough for her to hear, trying to distract her from noticing the person with the tracker. They were talking today about whether or not she and the boy she had effectively recruited were dating, when they'd met, if they'd kissed yet. The boy in question laughed quietly in response, glaring daggers in their general direction.

Contrary to her new classmates' belief, she did not have any real association with the boy that moved at much the same time as her. It was only after she noticed they were being watched that she pinned him after class and made sure he knew what was going on. He seemed wary of her, but ultimately less trustful of the other students, especially after they both independently came to the conclusion that the weird object that someone had stuck on her backpack had to be some sort of DIY tracker. He was quick to agree to take up an avoidance tactic with her. They both made it clear to each other at that time that they did not seek any form of friendship from this, and would only talk when required or if it were about the other student's behaviors.

Honestly, she didn't want any friends here in this new place. She always had a hard time connecting to people back in her old home, even when her mother tried to force her to. Suffice to say, the experiences she had to deal with had left some pretty bitter tasting stuff in her mouth, and she was ignored middle school and onwards.

She didn't move for several moments before pretending to go look for something in her bag. In the process of this, she removed the tracker and held it between her fingers for the duration of her false search.

After sitting up, she slipped it to her temporary partner, Fechin, who she had started sitting next to for this very reason. "Your turn."

The boy made that annoying little high pitched giggle that never failed to get on her nerves. That was one reason she could never get along with the boy and had stated outright she had no desire for a relationship. He laughed too much, but she knew it wasn't a result of a disorder or some such, because when she pinned him, he went serious and quiet until some of the paralyzing nervousness went away. It was a stupid habit at best. She seemed to frighten him a lot, though, which left him stuttering instead until he started talking fast in an attempt to correct himself. He was, to put it simply, a mess. "Man, they sure are persistent. This is how many now?"

"I don't know, I don't care; get rid of it before someone catches us. Who knows what they'll do if they're aware."

The boy mock-saluted her, which didn't help her vague desire to slap him; if nothing else for the fact that his action could in and of itself give them away. He slipped the object in his jacket pocket and stood, going to the teacher and asking for a bathroom pass.

Idly, Mona wondered what he would do with it today. Maybe he would flush it down the toilet; keep it simple and maybe a little bit juvenile if anyone happened to be in there with him. She almost wondered if toilet humor appealed to him before she shut that line of thought down promptly. Judging from the rest of his sense of humor, of course it did.

Mona leaned forward, resting her head on her right arm while staring down at the paper she was doodling on. No one could tell if she was actually doing the work in a position like this, which was good, because if they thought she did, they wouldn't bother her. She had learned as much by the third day. When she and Fechin were separated… that was actually the most dangerous time for them. The people around them liked to pick and prod at them, try to figure out their every move. But if they looked like they were seriously attempting their work, most of them stayed away. Except for a couple idiots. Those were the type that borderline flirt with her, trying to get her to teach them how to do their math or whatever.

She had shot them all down, and in the two weeks she had been there, she had already earned a reputation of being very cold-hearted except to Fechin. And honestly, this didn't even make any sense, because for the first couple days, she never even looked in Fechin's direction, and even now she figured it was abundantly obvious she held absolutely no affection for the boy. She had yet to so much as crack a smile in his (or anyone else's) general direction.

The door opened, and Mona briefly glanced in its direction to find that it was a boy holding a pass. Deeming it not worth her time to continue taking interest in the event, she looked back down until she heard her name being called.

Confused, she stood and made her way over to her teacher. He handed her the slip, which she looked down at. It made her blink.

"I'm expected at the library?"

The teacher shrugged unhelpfully. "Heck if I know what it is. It says at my convenience, so go down there now. Grab your stuff in case you don't get back in time."

Mona frowned and returned to her seat, putting away her things. She was leaving right as Fechin was returning. "Hm? You're leaving?"

Mona waved the pass in his face, trying to ignore the unsettled feeling in her stomach. "Yeah, I got a pass. Uh… Okay, this might sound stupid, but where is the library? I've never been there."

Fechin tilted his head to the side, crossing his arms and playing with his sleeves. His face twitched like he was about to laugh, but he seemed to consciously stop himself. Mona wondered if he was trying to avoid hurting her feelings, even though they both knew it wasn't something he thought about doing. She supposed that she should be grateful that he would consider her at all, no matter how unnecessary it may be.

"It's… uh, no wait…" He paused, idly tapped his chin for a moment before confessing, "I don't know. How about this, I'll go with you. I'm sure we can find it. I think it's in the other half? Bottom floor? Probably bottom floor."

The raw uncertainty in his voice left Mona heaving a sigh. "That does not sound promising."

At this, he did laugh, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Heehee! I'm sure we'll find it. Come on."

Mona obediently followed behind her temporary partner, her hand automatically reaching for her necklace, thumbing it without thought. Instead, her thoughts were on the fact that she was needed in the library for some unspecified reason. Her mind raced with ideas, weeding out the least likely ones and throwing them into the mental trash, slowly but surely raising the chances of what she considered more plausible, which only served to make it feel more terrifying.

"You play with that a lot." She stiffened at the unexpected comment, removing her hand and shoving it in her pocket. "That's not a bad thing. Do you have anxiety?" When she merely stared at the boy, unsure of what exactly to say to this, he stopped. She did as well soon after, turning to face him. "No? ADHD? Uh… ADD? No, wait, you're so incredibly calculated, I can't imagine you have an attention problem… You clearly are not exhibiting psychopathy either…" he snapped his fingers half a second later, his eyes lighting up. "You're a savant!"

"A savage?" Mona asked, feeling somewhat offended, but equally astonished to the point that she wasn't sure how to react to the onslaught of potential diagnoses. She was used to nonsense like this but the quick way he went all around with his thoughts on what she was just dumbfounded her.

"No, a savant! N, not a G!" He corrected. "I've met a couple, thanks to my mother and her weird ways, which, I might add, is very impressive considering how few there are, but I've never met a female one. Amazing. What disorder is it connected to? I imagine autism; approximately half of all the savants are autistic, you see, and that would explain the fact that you never make eye contact with me, as well as your lack of social capabilities, even before you noticed people stalking us you seemed to stay away from everyone. Hm, if you are one, then what skill are you primarily good at? I could imagine something like math, I've seen you do your homework, you don't write down anything but the answer. Oh, don't you get dinged for that though? Whatever. I suppose you're a bit too high functioning for a typical savant, but oh, the idea is exciting anyway, I'm not letting that one go until I'm sure!"

Mona sputtered at this, growling and saying, "This is none of your business! I don't even know what a savant _is_. I've had enough people try and tell me what's wrong with me, and I don't need some kid I barely know also trying!"

Fechin was silent for a moment, staring at her, that light dying down, before he looked away from her with what she swore was a look of regret and continued to walk. "To be fair, I'm not saying anything is 'wrong' with you. But… No. No, I suppose it isn't my place at all."

Mona watched him go for a moment, pondering if she hurt his feelings, before remembering that they were going somewhere and rushing to return to his pace. Swallowing, she asked, "Why a savant? What _is_ a savant?"

"A savant's a person who's really amazing at something, or sometimes multiple somethings… but kinda shit at most others. Including coordination. Mostly characterized by an amazing memory, usually only pertaining to that special something."

Mona snorted indignantly. Is that how he saw her? As a damn near worthless piece of shit? She supposed her language arts work was poor at best… his mention of coordination was clearly a jab at her utter failures in PE class... and her history grade was suffering a pretty poor fate as well, but it had only been three weeks…

Who was she kidding? She'd been crap in those subjects even before the transfer. She highly doubted he was right though; she seemed to lack what made a savant a savant. She wasn't _good_ at anything, just sorta mediocre in everything; not even worthy of being called a jack of all trades.

She tried to stop that thought process before it got any worse. "Why are you so interested in my mental state anyway?"

Fechin hummed, seemingly lost in thought. "Illness, of any kind, not just the mental variety, has always… intrigued me. That is not to say I believe you to be ill; I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that you were completely normal neurologically. I am merely curious… about if you have been told you have what is considered to be a disease or a disorder. Considering your talent, you know? Sometimes having a 'disorder' can be a boon if you can function well enough to use it properly."

A lot about this stuck Mona as strange, especially his belief that she had any talent, but rather than bombard him with questions, she decided to ask the simplest one. "What makes illness intriguing to you?

He proceeded to speak with a surprising amount of seriousness, not a stutter or laugh to be heard, and somehow, the way that he went quiet was more interesting than what he actually had to say. "Doctors misdiagnose a problem with a person far too often. They tell people things that are not true. Some do it so they can get more money out of you. Sometimes they simply make a mistake. I don't trust them either way. I've taken a strong interest in this, if nothing else, because… I want to prove to myself that I really can do better than those bumbling buffoons."

As bad as she was with reading people, Mona could tell that the small boy walking beside her was irritated. There were so many indicators that she'd have to be in a coma to not tell. His hands were clenched tight, eyes narrowed, shoulders tensed. This was the first time she had seen him openly show his annoyance at anything, and she found it interesting to watch. "Have they screwed you over in the past?"

"More than you could ever believe."

Mona opened her mouth, wanting to ask how, but stopped herself. It wasn't her place to pry into the boy's past, not when he was willing to cease his questioning on her. Instead, she replied with a weak "Right."

A couple minutes of silence passed between them, and when the sound of their shoes clicking on the floor grew to be too much and she found herself fiddling with her necklace again, she spoke up, although keeping her voice somewhat low in case someone else was wandering the halls.

"So what did you do with the tracker this time?"

Fechin glanced at her with a smile. She could only assume that he was grateful she didn't ask too much on the previous subject, but then again, he could always be taking a shine to her. She sort of hoped that he wouldn't though, given her track record with friends.

"Hee! I tried to see if I could crush it, see what was in it; if it's actually a tracker, or if this is some elaborate prank. It wouldn't break, though, haha. Tried shorting it out with water as well, but I don't think that worked. Couldn't really tell, honestly, I'm not sure if it even has any wiring in it. Whatever they are, they're strange. Had to flush it down the toilet before I spent too long and someone got suspicious."

Mona growled a little. "We need to figure out how to deactivate them. One of these days we're not going to notice. We're going to be caught."

The smile turned to a smirk, and Fechin let out a shockingly loud laugh that filled the halls, proudly declaring, "Mona, Mona, Mona, that's when the game gets fun!"

Mona looked at Fechin in shock, not entirely sure where this was coming from. "Since when was this a game to you? You don't know what's going to happen if they catch us!"

"There's a reason it's called the most dangerous game, Mona! Humans are equal parts stupid and crafty, and if such a situation arises, we will be able to defend ourselves well enough!"

The sound of his voice was ringing all around them, or maybe that was just an illusion because it was deathly silent otherwise, but regardless, it sent Mona into a panic. She rammed her hand over his mouth, hissing, "Quiet! We do not want anyone to know about this!"

Fechin's eyes went wide for a moment before he visibly calmed. Glaring at him warningly, she removed her hand.

Coughing awkwardly, he rubbed his hand over his mouth, muffling his already low, embarrassed voice. "Uh, I-I am sorry… about that. I can get… excitable."

Mona wondered if she had put the fear of the gods in him, so she sighed and attempted damage control. "I can see that. But don't worry about it. I don't think anyone heard. It's fine if you're excitable; just don't go yelling about how we're avoiding literally everyone because they're out to get us."

Fechin looked the slightest bit ashamed of himself before suddenly stopping and pointing. "We're here."

Mona looked at where he was pointing, realizing that at some point they had gone down the stairs, surely they had, anyway. There was a sign that read 'library' nailed over a door.

"Sure shit. You want to go back to class now? I'm sure someone will notice you hanging around."

"Well, you needed help getting here, right? That's enough of an excuse, I'd say." He really had to be taking a shine to her, and his next excuse really didn't remove the suspicion. "Besides, as you've made sure I know, we're pretty pathetic on our own, more likely to get caught, yeah?"

Mona rolled her eyes; barely restraining herself from asking what was honestly so fascinating about her that he would be willing to follow her like this. She realized that it must be the disorder thing, and for a moment she felt pure disdain for him. She pushed it away, however, because she needed this partnership to work. "Fair enough. Let's go."

* * *

Panic. That was all he felt as he stared at an endless void that he seemed to now be floating in.

Had he died?

Was that it? He tried to remember, but could only recall Mona making a startled noise as they entered the library.

They'd been ambushed, he realized.

He finally had someone he was willing to try and befriend, though…

In a way, the thought hurt. But in another, he realized this was just the way it was. He wasn't supposed to have friends. He wasn't supposed to have anyone like him in general. The gods had long since decreed that he was to be alone for the whole of his life.

The panic ebbed, and he submitted himself to the darkness.

"Hi there!"

Fechin couldn't stop the high pitched scream that tore from his throat, filling the oddly blue room he was inexplicably within now. He stumbled and fell backwards, flailing momentarily in terror.

When he realized nothing bad was going to happen to him, he ceased his useless struggles and shakily sat up. Standing in front of him, staring at him with what he interpreted as curiosity, was a person clothed in some very dark colors from head to toe, literally. Although he or she wore a cloak that obscured a lot of their figure, the black skintight material covering their feet also covered the neck and head, and Fechin could only assume that it was in some way one whole piece, although the logistics of getting into such an outfit was lost on him. The face of this person was concealed by a startlingly white mask with a wide, toothy, and seemingly mischievous, smile on it. There was a visor covering their eyes, and from either end of it were a pair of yellowish spikes that moved on the occasion, although Fechin could not fathom that they were performing any sort of task.

"W-Who are you?" He tried to summon that habitual laugh of his, so as to not betray any more weakness to this person, but all that came out was the squeak of a dying mouse.

"I'm the watcher," the person said, their voice somewhere in the middle of being either gender to the point that Fechin was left more confused about this person even before realizing what he had just been told.

Gaining back some of his nerve, he laughed, watching as the mask's smile slipped ever so slightly, as though not anticipating such a reaction. "Heehee, watcher? Watcher of what? Because if it's me, then you're better known as the Stalker!"

Those spikes seemed to perk up, and the smile grew back to its original size. "Close. My official title is known as Spy, for I am the only one to know who everyone is in and out of this world."

All laughter died in Fechin's throat. "W-World?

That impossibly wide smile grew wider, and if it had been anything but a mask, Fechin would have been terrified to watch it. Although the fact that a mask was moving like a face was pretty frightening in its own right. "Yes. Currently, you are residing within the world known as Lazarus. I am what is known by you otherworlders as a Lazarian, an inhabitant of this place." He paused for a moment, allowing Fechin to digest this information.

"Isn't Lazarus a story from Greek myth? Or… no, it wasn't Greek, right?"

Spy shrugged. "That is not one piece of information I care to remember. You otherworlders named us, for we did not have a name for our species as a whole. The one who came up with it was going on about resurrection or something like that."

Fechin stopped caring the moment that Spy got his first sentence out, so his next question was immediate and "Where's Mona then? I didn't see what happened to her, what did they do to her?!"

The creature's smirk softened at the show of concern, and they said, "Do not worry. There can be many of me at any one time; currently there is one of me in another space with her, explaining all things to her just as I am explaining to you." They snapped their fingers, and a notebook with a pen resting on top of it appeared in their hands. They held it out, with Fechin gingerly taking hold of it.

Looking inside revealed all prior writings to be scrambled, decodable given time, surely, but for the moment completely unreadable.

"I must keep your classmates' secrecy, I hope you understand. Now then, from left to right, real name, code name, address, and group."

Fethin looked up with narrowed eyes. "Why do I need a code name? And like hell I'm giving you my address!"

Spy shrugged, ignoring the boy's second point entirely. "If people know who their friends are in the real world, it would create an unbalance in Lazarus. For you see, everyone is within a different group. There are the Green Gallivanters, Digging Divers, Royal Rulers, Crimson Cloaks, and there has recently been a push for a subgroup of alchemists scattered throughout these groups to break off and make their own group known as the Advancing Alchemists, although that is not currently an option. Each place has their own values and specializes in different things. If people knew who those around them were, there would be a push to be with their friends instead of those who would benefit their group, leading to a complete breakdown of the system."

"Someone had fun with alliteration," Fechin commented boredly. He looked down at the book. Shaky handwriting was appearing in it, and he found himself staring at the name of the only person who had even pretended to be friendly towards him. He kept silent, in the hopes that the weird creature in front of him wouldn't notice and he could be in part an exception to this strange rule of code names.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be lacking in luck today, as he was with every other day, and the code name that she started writing was suddenly blocked out with a chunk of black. Fechin startled at the change, and he could hear the being tisk at him. Grumbling, he wrote his own name under hers, writing an extra 'sorry we failed' to her that was quickly wiped off the page in such a way that it appeared to have never happened to begin with. This too startled him, but not enough to get a physical reaction. Writing appeared under his name, saying 'we tried.' This too was quickly removed.

"Just finish your writing; you can talk to her upon your return to your world."

Fechin frowned, but found the mask was giving him a disapproving look. Wilting, he continued, skipping the code name and address for the moment. Just as he was realizing he knew nothing about the groups, writing appeared under his name with a few short notes about them. Fechin tried to ignore the thought that his mind had to have be read to know that he was lacking information or even that he had skipped some steps.

Crimson Cloaks: calm and collected, headed by Scary and his many others. Must be willing to work, but no minimum required.

Digging Divers: basically for the 'jocks', whatever those are, headed by Treasure with Mole as his second in command. Elites only.

Green Gallivanters: nicknamed the Flirty Flyboys (Fechin groaned at this and immediately skipped the description.)

Royal Rulers: Just an oddball named King. Ignore him. (Fechin raised a brow in confusion, with half a mind to choose this 'group' just to spite the writer.)

With no time wasted, he wrote down the only sensible option and moved onto his address, writing 'Fuck you' instead of anything constructive. Mona was quick to write 'ha!' in response to this, as it was apparently not blocked out. Both of these were erased soon after.

"Do you want to wake up in a park?"

"Do you have the authority to do that to me?"

"I'm basically your god in this realm, child, and I control where you go when you die, so you know what-"

Fechin cut him off, saying, "You're going to frame my father for murder? Shit, man, why didn't you just say so?"

Spy seemed to wilt a little in confusion, causing Fechin to chuckle. "Death… death doesn't work like that here…" Fechin rolled his eyes, not particularly interested in hearing this at the moment; he was being overloaded by all the information being thrown at him as it was. He wrote down his new address; at least, he assumed it was correct.

Now he was just left with a code name, which left him frowning in distaste. He could go for something rather cool, as this was effectively the freshest start he would ever get. But still, that voice no one else could hear was whispering at him again, and what he ended up writing was decidedly _not_ cool.

Spy hummed in satisfaction, snatching the book out of his hands and replacing it with a simple white mask.

"This mask is your mask. It will change and evolve with you. Although it lacks any means of support, it will only come off if you take it off."

Fechin looked down at the object curiously. "It's got no eyeholes."

"Won't be a concern once you put it on."

Fechin frowned, holding the mask up to his face, feeling it latch on, somehow. The panic he had felt earlier returned full force with a feeling of suffocation that accompanied the blackness. He fell back, struggling to get the mask off. Despite Spy's claims, it did not come off when he tried to remove it, only furthering the panic until he started to scream in terror.

Eventually, it popped off, flinging across the room with force. Fechin gasped for breath, staring at the object in fear, finding that it was no longer a blank slate, but a long green beak.

Spy made to retrieve it, looking it over curiously. Their mask was actively frowning deeply, although their teeth were still showing like they couldn't close their mask's mouth, their spikes pulled back, nearly flattened against their skull.

Fechin waited for something to be said, but no words ever left the being. After a moment of staring, they turned and tossed the mask back to him. He scrambled to catch it, fumbling and nearly losing it before securing a good grip on it. He glanced down at it and realized what had probably caused such a reaction. The poor thing had several wounds, the worst being a large gash on the left side.

"Why…?" Fechin looked up at Spy in confusion. In return, the other being turned away, looking at some sort of digital screen. "Why is it wounded?"

"Extroverts tend to get helmets, while the introverts tend to get masks, of which are more expressive. Ironic, isn't it?"

Dumbfounded, Fechin's mouth hung up for a moment before he snapped back to his senses and yelled, "That wasn't the question! Why does my mask look like it went to a sword fight with its fists!"

Spy looked back at him, a small, almost nervous smile on their face. "Just think about it for a second."

Fechin wanted to yell and scream that they should just tell him what was going on, but before he could, his mask was suddenly on his face, feeling much more spacious now, and in a flash, he was flat on his back somewhere else. Blinking in confusion, he sat up, looking this way and that.

He was alone in what seemed to be some sort of entrance hall. It was what he thought to be magically grandiose, wide and spacious and lit with flames that lacked a source but burned bright enough to flood the place with light.

Standing ever so cautiously, Fechin prepared for anything. Feeling a breeze just about freeze him to the core, he looked downwards to find that he was dressed in thin rags. Shocked at this change, he yelped and stumbled, eventually ending with him falling back onto his ass.

This noise attracted attention, and someone wearing a full set of mismatching armor came in. They looked him over, muttering, "Another one-star, huh?"

"Wha-what's that supposed to mean?!" Fechin shrieked, unable to hold back his indignation at what seemed to be an insult.

The person tilted their head to the side. "It's nothing bad. You all start out like that."

"You all…? What, you exempt or something?"

"I'm a Lazarian. I started at two stars, man."

Confusion just about radiated off Fechin, and he asked, "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

The Lazarian snorted. "Nothing good. Like we need more otherworlders." Fechin barely got past cocking his head to the side before they continued speaking. "You'll learn the politics here soon enough, don't you go worrying about that yet." Fechin again did not get a chance to respond before the being kept going. "I'll show you everything you need to know here, you just need to follow me. What's your code, kid?"

Fechin almost responded with his real name, but managed to stop himself. "Plague."

The Lazarian hummed in thought. "A fear tactic?"

Fechin, or Plague, paused. "S-sure."

"Cool. You really came to the right guys then."

It took Fechin a moment to realize that such a name in a place like this wasn't necessarily _bad_. Relaxing a little, he stood back up. "Can you get me something warmer to wear? It's freezing in here."

"Sorry, the best thing you can get is a robe, and that's way out of your price range. The only thing you get for free here is a sword."

"Great, now I have to get a job?" He sighed. "I… don't really think that would be a smart idea to… wait wait. A sword?"

The Lazarian's helmet molded, only just slightly, seemingly into a confused expression. Fechin really couldn't tell though.

"Uh, you… you'll understand soon enough. Follow me."

Definitely confused, Fechin concluded.

With nothing else to do at this stage, he followed along helplessly.

* * *

Mona breathed a sigh, trying her best to seem bored by the rambling of some weird dude in a mask that looked like flames, when on the inside she was panicking to hell and back. All she knew at this point was that there was a fox mask stuck to her face, she was freezing to death, and she was now operating under a code name. Everything else was lost on her, and she honestly didn't give a shit to understand any of it.

"Let me go home." She had probably said that more than a couple times by now. Each time she was told that she could not, but at no point was she told the why. Seeing no reason not to, she decided to approach the situation with the textbook definition of insanity until the person just gave up.

Fire-boy seemed to glare at her. It made her smile to know that she was getting to them. "I will hurt you."

"Go ahead. Worst you can do is end my existence."

"And that brings me back to what I was trying to tell you. You cannot die. I mean, you can, but you'll just wake up back in wherever you told Spy to send you."

"All the more reason for you to kill me then."

Fire cocked their head to side. "Are you suicidal?"

Mona crossed her arms in annoyance. "Please, this place is surely a masochist's wet dream, but I doubt it will help someone suicidal feel anything but more depressed."

With a motion of the head that seemed to be rolling their eyes (with purple lights in the eye holes that mimed the action), Fire said, "Whatever. Listen to me this time now: My name is Fire," Mona resisted the urge to say that she called that, "I am a Lazarian, no, I don't know what a gender is, no, you may not go home at this time, yes, you will be fighting, and yes, you will die. Now then, come along and… what's your name?"

Mona opened her mouth, paused and muttered while looking down, "Letha."

"Letha? Like, lethal?"

Mona pursed her lips. "Sure."

Fire studied her for a moment, as though they seriously believed that they could figure her out. There was no way they could, especially not from a cursory glance. Not even doctors agree with what's wrong with her, but then again that could just be because her mother refused to believe that she was suffering from ADHD or Borderline Personality or PTSD or depression… no, she had what her mother thought she had, and that was the end of it. The thought made her twitch.

"Come on."

Mona jerked and realized that the Lazarian had walked off. She followed along after him, quickly, so that they could get this over with as soon as possible.

* * *

"Ace! You hear? They got 'em!"

Ace turned in confusion, finding that it was Reize, who was bouncing happily in front of him. The freshman had a large grin on his face, no doubt waiting for the day to be over so he could return to Lazarus. That was how the majority of his interactions with the boy went. The boy seemed to latch onto the senior for some reason, and when he wasn't running around exclaiming that the latest new kid had been taken by the recruiters, he was either with his cousin Donovan or hanging with Ace.

Ace didn't really mind it too much. He had grown used to the attention due to the fact that, while he had mostly lost the accent with time, he was very much from France, and was one of the unfortunately few culturally diverse people within the large community. He became popular immediately back in elementary school, and that success hardly waned as he grew older, even through his awkward young teen years. Now he had scores of young boys coming to him, trying to figure out how to have his success even without the accent. Reize was no different, especially because he wished to woo an upperclassman.

Ace hummed, unsure of who the younger boy was talking about. He knew that he had heard about some new potentials that were playing hard to get, but he hardly had time to worry about them until they were recruited, and even then, only if they joined his group. "Who were they again?"

"Uh, small boy, Felchin, Fletchin? Something weird like that. And a girl, really tall, recruiters were commenting that it was real funny looking at them stand next to each other. Uh, can't remember her name, I think it started with an M?"

"Aren't you helpful?" Ace asked sarcastically. "Ah, this is why you fail where I don't. I remember people's names."

Reize sputtered softly in response to this.

"Reize."

Said boy jumped and whirled around, brightening immediately. "Dono!"

"Yes, yes, it's me," Donovan said, patting Reize on the head. "What are you doing hanging out with Ace now? He's not being mean to you, is he? I saw you slump."

"Oh, no, he was just giving me advice on how to be a better person!"

Donovan raised a brow, utterly unconvinced but unwillingly to get into an argument. The two knew of each other's status as leaders of separate groups, and they found it was difficult to avoid conflict in their daily lives, especially so when they were commonly surrounded by people. It was for this reason that they took great measures to ensure that no one else shared the same fate. "Right, right, what's this about new recruits?"

"Two, a girl and a boy. I think they're juniors, not really sure," Reize answered.

"Grade doesn't matter. I'm sure that they will be valuable wherever they land." Donovan shot Ace a taunting look that assured the French boy that he knew where they would likely end up and that there would be endless mocking going on later.

Ace tried to keep a dirty frown off his face. "Well, school's over, isn't it? Let's go find out if they ended up in our respective groups, shall we?"

Reize nodded excitedly, looking around for anyone dangerous that might spot them. By some odd chance, however, the coast was completely clear at all angles, just Percy trying to woo some ditzy girl who had gotten downright infamous for disappearing to Lazarus at the most inconvenient of places and singlehandedly nearly gotten them caught a dozen times over. They would have found a way to kick her out if they had any idea of whether or not she was actually a worthwhile team member.

The three did their usual ritual to summon them to Lazarus, and in a flash, they were gone.

Ace opened his eyes to find that his castle's entrance hall was filling up quickly with high schoolers eager to play their dangerous game. He casually strolled through the masses, occasionally apologizing to people just coming in that he accidently ran into.

Soon enough he was sitting in his office, asking for daily reports.

"Nothing new to report, Propeller, sir," Moon informed him. "Just the usual."

Propeller frowned. That damn leader of the Cloaks wasn't wrong when he expected to get the new ones. He was just about to ask for the latest census of how many members everyone had so ask to identify if they were falling behind their rival in headcount when he was interrupted.

"That's wholly incorrect!" Tree yelled, dashing into the room before doubling over, panting. "Just in, Treasure's attacking the Cloaks!" Their message delivered, the runner just about collapsed against the wall.

"How long ago?" Propeller asked, keeping his calm over the situation. As long as the Divers didn't come after him and his group, he didn't care enough to take action.

"I came straight here. I was with the resource gatherers; they sent me to tell you. So, uh, five minutes ago."

"How bad did it look?"

"Cloaks were totally unprepared, sir. Initial defenses were gone in seconds. As many Divers as possible must have left school early for this."

"A bunch of ball games are happening today, they got to leave early for that, but I never would have expected them to pull such a stunt. They're running on very limited time before people notice their disappearance. Risky." Propeller thought for a moment. "Go back, stay with the gatherers if you can, for safety, of course. I want to know the outcome of this. You cannot underestimate Scary when threatened. If he can get his others together, which they likely already are, then the Divers are fucked. We could use this either way."

Tree tiredly saluted and pushed himself away from the wall. "Attack's probably over by now, but sure, I'll go down."

"Hurry along then. And be sure to stock up on stamina potions later." Propeller laughed a little. "Honestly, my runner being out of breath? How dare you."

Tree laughed sheepishly.

* * *

Numbers on her hand were ticking down, slowly but surely. Most of them were already gone.

In less than an hour, her world had gone from irritating but predictable to strange, but digestible, before finally settling on utterly divorced from reality.

Letha, as people apparently were to call her here, had been trying to get back to minding her own business when the wall was blasted in. Although she had been shoved away, it was not fast enough to avoid a javelin to the abdomen. When she collapsed to her hands and knees, and then to her side because of the spear sticking out of her, after staggering away from the ensuing fight, she found her lifeforce had been given a physical presence on the back of her hand, as well as her one star ranking and another number that lacked context. Now all she was doing was watching her life drain because she couldn't find the strength in her limbs to do anything else.

Someone approached her, and she dared to look up, to glare at whoever it was.

It was some bulky ass guy who seemed to be wearing a diving suit, staring down at her.

"You're dying."

Letha growled. "No… I never would have guessed if you hadn't pointed it out for me. I have a spear in my gut, what the fuck do you think?!"

The man (she assumed it was a man) huffed and kicked her hand, stomping on it a moment later. He was silent for a moment, ignoring the pained cry and struggling that came about from his brutality.

"Another one star… I thought you'd just lost your armor. Are you new here?"

Another…? He seemed surprised. There couldn't be more than a couple one stars within this world from the way he was acting. Had Fetchin ended up here as well then?

A large hand started reaching for her, and, scared of what the man would do to her, decided that death was the least terrible option that she had at this point. Her free hand shot for the spear lodged in her stomach and jerked it. It wasn't enough to remove the object, but it did further the bleeding significantly. A scream tore from her throat from the pain this action caused her, and she stopped immediately out of instinct.

The diving helmet that had been looking at her moved to look at something, and suddenly he was no longer on her.

Even though her vision had blurred, she _felt_ the presence of the newcomer. She blinked rapidly, trying to get a good look at this person that had saved her from whatever the diver had wanted to do.

The first and most critical thing that she noticed was that they were floating. A scythe gripped tightly in their hand, red cloak billowing fitfully in the wind that seemed to be generated by what could only be described as sheer power, they seemed to not notice her as they spoke. "Leave, Treasure."

The man in the diving suit laughed. "You may keep that pitiful one starred nobody, Specter. I have everything I wanted out of this confrontation."

Seeming to realize something, the floating being before her leap forward, yelling, "Give them back!"

The diver, Treasure, apparently, blocked a powerful slash with something Letha could not make out. The action was too far away for her fading vision to see and understand. The two engaged in a battle that quickly left the room.

An eternity seemed to pass as she laid there, feeling numb as the remnants of her life slipped away. Someone came to her, plopping themselves down beside her head, speaking with a striking weakness in their voice. "Hey there, you're new here, aren't you? Sorry your introduction was such shit. It's not normally this bad, I promise." She flinched when they touched her, moving some of her scattered hair out of her face. "I'm part of the leader. Specter. Uh, he's… he's separate here, uh… W-We saw you. Treasure had you pinned, didn't he? Oh, good thing we saved you. You tried to kill yourself, didn't you? To avoid him? And yet you're still hanging on. Impressive."

If the boy (she could only assume the person was human, judging from his saying that they were separate here, and further assumed the speaker was male, if only for convince) kept talking, she couldn't hear it. All of her senses died at once and she was left floating as nothing but a terrified consciousness.

She wasn't aware of how long she was stuck in this state, but when she could feel again, she wished that she couldn't.

* * *

"I hate you."

"Good for you."

Plague glowered at the man before him. In lacking any way to defend himself when the room he had been standing in had been invaded and his companion of the moment killed horrifically, he had been dragged against his will to who knows where. A red crystal on his chest was stolen away momentarily and dyed a brilliant cobalt; by what means, he did not know. Now he found himself surrounded, alongside a small selection of other people. None of them seemed to want to speak up besides him.

"Is someone going to explain what the hell is going on here?!"

Someone in a dog mask answered him this time. "You're in Lazarus, one star."

"I got that much; although what a Lazarus is happens to be beyond me at this point in time! Why do I have a crystal in my chest, why was it red and why is it now blue?!"

"The color dictates who you answer to."

"Excuse you, I will never answer to the people who kidnapped me."

"Your eyes say otherwise."

Plague paused, wondering if he should ask. He gave up quickly, unwilling to go into this completely blind. "What the hell do you even mean?"

Dog-face tapped his own mask, pointing to the grey orbs that seemed to indicate his eyes. "Your eyes, one-star. They're orange. That's fear. And judging from how bright they are, you're terrified."

Plague felt his fear grow, because they could see it here. Alongside other emotions, he presumed. He could not put up any false fronts, it seems.

Dog-face continued before he could come up with a snappy comeback. "Play along, and you have nothing to fear. You don't want to be with the spooks anyway; we're cool! As for your crystal, as long as it is blue, you will come in at whatever area Treasure designates for you. If you showed loyalty to him, you would be granted the privilege of being able to appear wherever it is that you last were before you returned home, but it's doubtful you'll ever earn that, if we're being honest here; you aren't giving a good first impression."

"Well, sorry for being dropped in here without so much an explanation on why my mask looks like it's already been in a fight! Why is it not reasonable I'm ticked?! I don't know what's going on, I'm tired, I'm overloaded as crap, and I just want to go home!"

"Request granted."

"What?" Plague turned to looked at the speaker before being clocked in the side of the head. Hard.

Whatever hit him had the force of a couple hundred bricks to the head, and he was sure he'd died when his vision went black, but his consciousness was left to continue thinking.

* * *

As a kid, she had always been one of the lucky ones. One of those kids who pricked their finger once, realized that it hurt, and never did anything stupid enough to bring harm to her again.

Saying that Mona was unprepared for pain was an understatement. She just seemed to pop back into existence, a searing pain ripping through her torso.

Gasping for breath, she fell to the ground and curled into a ball, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

The feeling subsided with time, although not completely, and when she gently probed her abdomen for injuries, she found that, although it stung quite a bit, there was no actual wound that she could find; no spot that elevated the feeling to insufferable levels. It was as though nothing had even happened.

Confused and questioning her own reality, she stood on wobbly legs and looked around, finding that she was in the alley by her apartment. She knew this because across the street was the store that had been broken into the night before, which led to a lot of noise in the middle of the night and consequently a lack of sleep. It was a miracle no one commented that she looked tired.

Trying her best to be subtle about it, she walked into the building. No one paid her any mind, even when she nearly tripped going up the stairs.

As she anticipated, there was nothing but unpacked boxes there to greet her when she finally got back to her relatively new home. Glad that no one was there to question her weak way of moving, she glanced at the clock, discovering that it was only four. It was only then that she realized she'd missed an entire period due to the kidnapping, and that meant she had been gone for longer than she initially thought.

Groaning and deciding she really didn't want to think about if time worked differently between the two realms or if she had gone completely stir crazy, she waded her way through the untouched containers scattered about to her room. She flopped onto the bed, regretting it immediately when she found that upset her stomach. She hadn't thought herself to be ill at any point, but maybe the stinging had masked it. Regardless of the cause of this disgusting feeling, she covered her mouth, breathing slowly in a desperate bid to avoid losing her lunch.

This worked in time, and she finally relaxed on the bed. She debated for a moment getting up and finding a plastic bag in the event that the feeling returned, but ultimately decided against it. She felt weak, too much so to get up and do anything.

Rolling onto her side, she found herself staring at her frog stuffed animal. Somehow, she found the strength to pull it to her chest, taking comfort in its presence. With it in hand, she closed her eyes, pretending that she was at home even when the noises of the street below screamed otherwise.

* * *

Scary growled. "What's the report?"

"Judging from what we can tell, you know, in the state we're in, the long distance, all that, they got the one-star, I think two two-stars and one three-star. They didn't go for anyone big this time," Ninja answered.

"Both one stars?!" Sexy asked angrily.

"No," Wimpy answered. "I found the other one when I went to see who we rescued upon confronting Treasure. Poor girl died with a javelin in her gut. I tried to comfort her, but I don't think it worked much."

"But her crystal? That's the most important part, Wimpy, the crystal," Living reminded his other.

"I know, I know. Don't worry. It was still red."

Scary sighed. "I thought we joined too early. And maybe we did. But we at least, guaranteed, saved the girl from being Treasure's slave." He stood, pacing a little despite the weakness he felt in his legs. "Now… I need to take group opinion on if we should retaliate for their freedom. Thoughts?" He looked to the 15 other pieces of him sitting on the floor. None of them were limited to a sole emotion or opinion despite all being a part of the young man named Donovan, which made them more than worthy people for the primary leader of the Crimson Cloaks to confide in. If nothing else, they had a tendency to come up with points that the most assertive self would not think of.

"We need to recover first. The Divers have incredible defenses; we will lose if we rush in," Ninja pointed out without hesitation.

"Says the guy who can stealth it up like a master," Chibi muttered. "Why don't you sneak in and see if you can free them yourself?"

"You know we've never had the time to test if we as parts of the leader can force a crystal into being ours," Living said.

"However, this would be a wonderful time to test it," Dorky added. "Why don't you try? Even if you can't get anything tangible out of it, as long as none of the Divers see you, it will give the captured hope and answer a question we've had for ages now."

"But if he is caught, Treasure will try to wipe us off the map," Girly countered.

"He could wreck our base and steal our resources, but we can never die," Dorky countered her counter.

"That may be true, however, if we lose everything, we might as well have died," Sexy said.

All 16 of the man fell silent.

"What's the final vote?" Scary asked after giving them some time to think.

"Not at this time," Ninja said.

"Agreed," the yellow-wearing Banana said.

"Your choice, Scary," Sexy reminded him.

Dorky looked around at his others. "Please don't let me be alone in saying we should just send Ninja to test things."

"You aren't alone," Chibi reminded him. "I suggested it in the first place after all!"

"It carries to much risk either way," Living snapped.

Wimpy shyly spoke up next, pleading, "You didn't see the look on her face, guys. Who knows what the other one-star is feeling right now? This isn't just us; it's how that person will view Lazarus forever. This is the fate of several of our members!"

There was another pause as this fact was remembered.

"We do it," Sour announced.

"You don't have say!" Girly yelled.

"We are a whole!"

"We are separate within here!"

"We can join therefore we are whole!"

"I do not consult you because I think we need a hive mind to make this decision!" Scary shouted, slamming his hand down on his desk. "I'm ending this now, Ninja! You and Bat will be going in there tomorrow. Do not get caught or we could have problems on our hands! Understood?"

A number of the spooks grumbled, and slowly but surely, they all filed out, except Sexy and Scary.

"What are we going to do?" Scary asked the inexplicably older self. "We can't be fully separate. But they are all their own people."

"There's nothing we can do. Perhaps they will all one day emerge in a proper case of dissociative identify, but until that happens… Specter is all of us and yet none of us. And there is nothing we can do about it. I understand their frustrations. Most of them are so incredibly minute within the main personality that they probably feel oppressed. You, as the primarily dominate personality, do not feel it nearly as hard as the childish side that is Chibi or the feminine side of Girly."

"Or even the flirty side of Sexy," Scary added with a grin. "It's amazing you aren't more subdued, considering how Specter acts."

"My personality overwhelms the whole's desire for me to not be there. And we know it. I'll get him a girlfriend. One day you all will listen."

Scary barked a laugh. "If you push hard enough, the whole will listen. Why do you think I am dominate? Don't worry, you are surprisingly mature considering, it'll happen eventually."

"I actually worry about that. What will happen if I split? One half is left the desperate, horny teen and the other is the smart and sensible."

"Then as long as the former half doesn't dive at someone unexpectedly, we will deal with it accordingly. You will always be one of us regardless. Although, all things considering, Choco, Maple, and Pancake should have all feasibly joined into one. We've seen it before with Cutie and Kissy. Although that was a very strange joining, I must admit, and I must remember to ask if that was a willing occurrence."

Sexy laughed. "Yeah, I'm kinda surprised that wasn't a joining with me instead, but that has altered Cutie, so I suppose I'll be glad that it did not occur to me."

Scary smiled. "Tell me when the others wish to go."

"I will."

* * *

Fechin let out a low moan when he could suddenly feel again and pain exploded in his head. He crumpled to the ground immediately, more than a little dismayed when that ended up his head banging painfully on unforgiving earth.

For a moment, he believed that his brain had been microwaved. But soon enough the pain subsided, although he was still left with a crippling headache. He dared to look up, in the hopes that there was a safe place to retreat to before someone came along and decided he needed a medical professional. As luck would have it, he was just outside his home.

Desperate to curl up in bed and sleep the rest of the day away, he stood, and almost immediately fell to his knees. Clutching his stomach, he retched. He tried to think of anything but what he was currently doing involuntarily. This proved unsurprisingly difficult, however.

Vaguely, he wondered if he had a traumatic brain injury, and if he should ask his mother to take him to the hospital. But then again, he was just in an alternate world in which he had a hurt bird mask stuck on his face and there were swords and men in armor. If he claimed to be worried about suffering severe blunt force trauma, then he would have to explain that because he couldn't just say that he got hit on the head, for surely that would cause a more identifiable place for the pain to be than simply everywhere. And wouldn't he be called crazy for that?

He allowed himself several minutes to recover from the spasm before daring to stand again.

When he was certain that he was stable enough to walk, he took to stumbling to the door.

His mother greeted him as he came inside, going on about something he didn't listen to before he locked himself in his room. He kicked off his shoes and, upon more pained thought, his outer clothing, of which was covered in dirt.

Falling onto his bed with a groan, he did his best to ignore the headache that was plaguing him until he fell asleep.

* * *

 **Does anyone legit care about the existence of this?**

 **Thank you, Jason, you are the reason that I am posting this now and not later. Because I really need to establish something. I'm not mad at you. I'm frustrated. I asked you if I should paint my house purple or red, and you gave a shrug and said 'I don't have any ideas'. I asked for your opinion on something, and you said you don't have one, even though that is physically impossible.** **Clearly, I have this problem figured out, as the posting of this illustrates. However, this is a level of indecisiveness that shows I can't ask your opinions on things. If it's because you don't actually give a crap about this story, sure, that's your right, but tell me, would you?**

 **I don't have a twitter... Please, for the love of god alter your username so people can't go stalking you now...**  
 **Also, and this is just a nitpick because Lang and Lit has altered my perception of everything; don't put something that is causing part of the problem on the same line as 'can I be your friend again?' Because that does absolutely nothing to help your case. Especially when you establish that you are more than willing to use a large number of lines.**


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